


Calypso Dreams

by Isis



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End (2007), Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Crossover, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-17
Updated: 2008-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-02 14:59:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/370260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isis/pseuds/Isis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the stasis chamber, Elizabeth dreams.  Spoilers, in a way, for the third PotC movie (and for Before I Sleep).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calypso Dreams

Elizabeth blinked, startled. Surely three thousand years had not yet passed; even in the stasis chamber, she would have aged twenty-five years, but her reflection in the glass looked unchanged. And she didn't remember leaving the chamber. She had activated it and stepped in, and suddenly she was on the balcony, looking over the white-capped ocean, the wind blowing through her hair.

That couldn't be right, she realized. The city was underwater. She couldn't be on the balcony.

"Might be you are dreamin'," said a musical voice beside her, and she turned in surprise. How had she not noticed the woman? She was dark-skinned and long-haired, dressed in a flowing garment, long lengths of cloth in blues and greens that whipped around her legs in the wind, and she seemed to - to _glow_.

"Janus said it would be a dreamless sleep," said Elizabeth slowly.

"Hah! And who is he, to tell you this?"

"You're not an Ancient." Of course she wasn't. The Ancients were quiet, controlled, their technological might and their vast intelligence bent toward Ascension. The woman beside her was wild, and the intelligence that flashed from her eyes was more - elemental.

"You see to the heart of t'ings, Elizabeth Weir," the woman murmured, extending a hand over the balcony; the clouds gathered and the wind howled, stirring up the waves into mountains of white foam. Then she drew back her hand, and the sea subsided.

This is a dream, Elizabeth told herself. She felt oddly calm. "Who are you?"

"I am the wind. I am the sea." She turned to Elizabeth, eyes flashing. "Who are _you_?" Before Elizabeth could begin to compose a reply, she nodded. "I see. You are from the future, come to guard their city. They leave you behind. Then they come to my home, tell people all about the city that the waves swallow up. I come to see."

Elizabeth swallowed. "I chose to stay."

"And that is why you are a special woman, Elizabeth Weir." A dark finger rose to caress the line of her jaw. "Ten t'ousand years, it is a very long time to sleep."

"I chose it," she repeated.

"Yes, yes. But with no dreamin'? Ten t'ousand years is too long for that." The woman smiled, showing strangely dark and uneven teeth. "I give you good dreams, Elizabeth Weir."

She gestured, and the wind rose, coming in a swirl under Elizabeth's legs, lifting her up. It should have been terrifying, but it was exhilarating, and Elizabeth laughed as it carried them both into the air, high above the city's spires.

"You see your world? It is a very good world, with so much sea. Maybe it is better than mine. You made a good choice."

"I hope so," shouted Elizabeth. The wind carried her words away and then back to her own ears.

"You take care of this world," said the woman fiercely, and then she kissed her on the lips, like she was passing something on, a message, a gift. Her hands slid down Elizabeth's arms, and Elizabeth's clothes fell apart at the seams, spiraled off into the wind. The woman's arms came around her, and then she seemed to expand, to grow both bigger and less substantial, and Elizabeth was alone - no, not alone, caressed by the wind, the wind that wrapped around her and lifted her into the sky.

She was high above Atlantis now, in the clouds (in her dream) and the wind was a palpable thing, licking at her lips, swirling around her breasts, pushing her legs apart. She sighed and arched, and let the wind tumble her through the air and stroke her skin, let it whisper between her legs, like a lover's fingers, like a lover's mouth. When she came the first time she was spread-eagled, looking down at her city; when she came the second time she was curled around a cloud; when she came the third time she was skimming just above the surface of the waves, her skin tingling with the fine salt spray.

When she came the fourth time, she was in darkness. Then the door of the stasis pod swung open, and she blinked in the sudden light. She stepped out, putting a hand on the pod's edge to steady herself. A wrinkled hand. An older hand.

Vaguely she remembered dreaming of a dark, wild woman. Strange; Janus had told her she wouldn't dream. Well, it didn't matter. Three thousand years had passed. It was time to rotate the ZPMs.


End file.
